The Matrix: Revamped
by Lopsided Llama
Summary: In which Blaine is supposed to save humanity, Kurt is in a catsuit, and David and Wes are wearing too much leather for straight men. Oh and Sue Sylvester is a massive, mechanical, megalomanic. All in all, nothing much has changed. Klaine.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Honestly, when I heard that Blaine's surname was Anderson I just couldn't resist this. I think things are going to get sillier rather quickly. Cue disclaimer - obviously I don't own the Matrix or Glee. Just the unhealthy imagination which decided it would be a good idea to merge the two.

Please drop a review.

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**Wake up, Blaine. **

Blaine Anderson's eyes stirred behind his lids as the light cast from the computer changed. He grimaced, clicking his jaw and rubbing his stubble-shadowed cheek where it had been resting on the binder spine. The grimace shifted to a frown – the screen was dark, and someone had interrupted his download. Someone who knew his real name.

**I know what you are searching for. **

His hand froze above the esc key, and he took a sip of day old coffee, alert now but still trying to shake off the last of his uneasy sleep.

**And the best way to find David is to find Goliath. **

Imperceptibly hazel eyes widened, illuminated eerily green in the artificial light. Blaine sucked in a breath and clicked the mouse, typing furiously as he attempted to break into the IP that was delivering the messages. Nothing appeared but static and a green message at the bottom.

**Bye-bye Blaine.**

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"F – " Blaine glanced at the clock, and realized he didn't even have time to swear if he wanted to make it to work at a half decent hour. The twenty something shrugged on a pressed suit, fixed his tie and put down enough product to tarmac a motorway in the hopes that his hair would stop attracting small families of birds.

Come ten past the hour though and he was, unsurprisingly, in his supervisor's office, getting chewed out like he was twelve years old again.

"You have a problem with authority Mr. Anderson." His mechanical, grey-tongued supervisor looked archly at Blaine over the spire of his hands, imparting his words with the kind of gravity usually reserved for church. If he could the supervisor (in Blaine's book he didn't have enough personality to merit a name) would have them all wearing uniforms.

"The Warblers is one of the top software companies in the world because every single employee understands that they are part of a whole. Thus if an employee has a problem, the company has a problem. I hope you understand that the whole, Mr. Anderson, means much more to me than the parts."

Blaine kept his caustic response to himself and left the office, his shoulders tensed with irritation. It was made all the worse because he could still remember when he had been like that, when all that had seemed to matter in his life was the drill of work, eat, fuck, sleep without dreaming. Rinse and repeat.

When he returned to his cubicle there was a parcel on his desk. Blaine turned over the envelope in his hands and glanced about sharply. The envelope was blank on both sides, there wasn't even a stamp and he wondered who had left it there. But curiosity had his fingers working open the package before he registered what he was doing, and his hand closed around a phone.

That nearly gave him a stroke when it started to ring.

To the tune of Train's _Hey Soul Sister_.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Right I've been delighted to have reviews from a few of you beautiful people but please, if you're going to **favourite** or **alert** the story, drop me a word. It means kind of a lot to get feedback, even if this isn't the most high-brow or original of works. Eh - don't want to complain too much so I won't bring this one up again.

Enjoy!

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Catching the device midway through dropping it, stunned, Blaine raised the phone cautiously to his ear. A low voice replied to his unspoken question.

"Do you know who this is?"

Blaine spun, ducking behind a filing unit to conceal the mobile as his voice fell to a whisper, "David?"

"Yes." The words were calm, composed even. "I've been looking for you Blaine. I don't know if you're ready to see what I have to show you." The voice paused, and Blaine's breath held with it, "But unfortunately you and I have run out of time. They're coming for you. Now."

The phrase echoed as Blaine repeated it silently, his grip on the phone tightening as he asked, "Who's coming for me?" Something in his gut, even more than his extensive research, his hacks and his cyber-searches, told him to trust the man. But Blaine was wary of instincts and his ears were pricked for the telltale sounds of phone taps attempting to clone the conversion as it transformed from analogue to digital.

Still, he stood when the voice requested. The crown of his dark head whispered above the cubicle, his eyes following David's directions and settling on the double doors that led to the lobby. Three women stood there, dressed in scarlet suits, their eyes protected by mirrored glasses. But his gaze didn't go unnoticed and, simultaneously, the three women turned towards his cubicle, reflecting his startled reflection in their lenses.

Heart racing Blaine shot to the floor. Words caught around his tongue and his tone cracked uncharacteristically, "What do they want from me?" His blood swelled in his ears and he could barely hear David over the sound of his own breathing.

"You don't want to find out. Follow my instructions and I can get you out of there."

Blaine nodded, forgetting the other man couldn't see him, and then bit out a hasty 'yes!'.

"There is an office at the end of the hall. By the time you reach it the door code will have been broken. Press 0, and Blaine - stay low." Bent almost double the young man sprinted between the foam boards of the cubicles, skirting behind the printer. He glanced back to see whether the women in red had realized he had vanished from their line of sight. Nothing.

He swallowed a draught of air, relieved and stood, attempting nonchalance as he stabbed his finger against the 0 of the office's code barred door. Clouded glass swept open – the man and his shadow through the door almost before it had opened.

"Look outside. This line isn't secure Blaine; viruses will be eating in the connection already. Remember what I told you last night and trust me. Beyond lies that which is _beyond lies_." A hum of static signaled the line had been cut.

"David? Da –" Blaine dropped the phone, scanning the view from the panoramic window. The message from last night – that had to have been the anonymous contact. Blaine cast his mind back, trawling the dull, caffeine swilled contents of his evening.

Dead screen. Green letters. **Wake up** **Blaine**.

Something about the phrase screamed with familiarity, but he couldn't place it.

Memory poured in: **find Goliath**. There was nothing on the skyline, nothing particularly gargantuan save the empty facades of the skyscrapers. Damnit! Blaine cursed internally, he didn't know the details of the story, and had never expected to be caught in a life and death trivia fix!

**Bye Bye Blaine **– there! Finally something caught his eye. A logo was inscribed on the building across the way from him, BBB. The Better Business Bureau – some corporate end where receipts went to die. Right acronyms. Looking at the letters.

**Wake up Blaine**: _WUB_. The letters held no meaning but something about the word did. Wub. Wub.

_Beyond lies the Wub_. It was one of the first science fiction books he had encountered; buying every Philip K. Dick offshoot and mistake after he had found himself infatuated with Rick Deckard and everything Blade Runner. Blaine had been nothing if not an ardent fan. But how … how would David know _any_ of this?

A hand rattling the doorknob shook into his thoughts. Right, time to think Blaine, not to reminisce. _Beyond lies the Wub_ had dealt with immortality – and space pigs but he suspected it was the former that was his focus.

"And exactly how is immortality supposed to stop me from getting killed." Blaine muttered under his breath. Something was missing still – something about Goliath.

Someone was banging on the door now, and he could hear footsteps running to join them.

Blaine ran to the window facing the BBB sign, pressing his head to the glass as he sought inspiration. And in front of him, attached to the window latch was a small plaque, advertising _'Goliath Locks'_.

_Window. Direction._

_Lock._

_Immortality._

David wanted him to jump.


End file.
